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<title>Dead Ringer by Badwxlf</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24722596">Dead Ringer</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Badwxlf/pseuds/Badwxlf'>Badwxlf</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dungeons &amp; Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Heirs Of Despair</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Can we make attempted murder sexy, Demons, Desperation, Dreamscapes, F/M, Physical Abuse, Power Imbalance, Unhealthy Relationships</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:55:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>385</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24722596</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Badwxlf/pseuds/Badwxlf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter how hard she punched, no matter how strong, she still couldn’t rip that sickening smile off his face.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>D | Dahlia (Heirs of Despair)/Zulabar (Heirs of Despair), Original D&amp;D Character(s)/Original D&amp;D Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dead Ringer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The solid feel of her fists hammering against his flesh, the crunch of broken bones and the warmth of demonic blood seeping onto her knuckles… All of it, every breathless sensation, made D feel deliriously alive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yet it could not quell her anger. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She roared, sobbing, as Zulabar merely grinned beneath her, pinned by the combined force of her weight and merciless assault. No matter how hard she punched, no matter how strong, she still couldn’t rip that sickening smile off his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She conjured fire beneath her fingertips like a scalding brand and watched as it marred him well, the smell of burnt flesh filling the air as his skin popped and simmered. She then wrapped her hands around his neck, her tears dotting his abused flesh like despondent raindrops, and called forth a blistering chill, tinging his scarlet complexion a brutal frostbite blue.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Die, die,” she demanded, the words a command and a desperate plea in equal, torturous measure. “Just fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>die!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In response, his grin only seemed to grow wider. He began to wheeze and chuckles bubbled out of him like they would a dying animal, choked with bile and robbed of air. His cracked lips stretched past sharp teeth stained red with blood and his gaze met hers, a knowing gleam in his eyes. D startled as she felt his grip upon her hips. He pushed her forward, off his chest and onto his lap as he sat up, his heaving breath now close enough to mingle with her own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you often dream of touching me like this?” his broken voice whispered, gritty and serpentine. “Does it feel good?” His hand crept up her skirt. “When you take a life, do you imagine it was mine?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fuck off—</span>
  </em>
  <span>” D hissed, barely biting back a scream. She was desperate to deny him, but it was useless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew her well. Every fervent wish, every insecurity, every ounce of hope… He saw it all. All her worst qualities, every great shame, was his to cultivate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zulabar pressed a kiss to her lips. It tasted of copper and salt, blood and tears. Disgusting, addictive desire. “This is why I like you, pumpkin. You know how to have fun.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bruised, beaten, and broken, he was handsome even then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you know you need me.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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